


SuckerPunch

by starcrossedcherik



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Domestic Violence, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Forced Prostitution, Human Trafficking, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Violence, mutation supressors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 10:04:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17384444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starcrossedcherik/pseuds/starcrossedcherik
Summary: AU based on SuckerPunch (2011). Erik finds himself admitted to an insane asylum for Dangerous Mutants, where the staff intends to use and abuse him and then lobotomize him to get away with it. He develops a plan to escape, but along the way he begins to see reality differently, imagining a high end brothel and fantasy battles to cope with extreme trauma. Despite changing all the details in his perception of reality, he finds a way to inspire other patients/prisoners to help him try to escape before his lobotomy- Will they make it out alive?





	SuckerPunch

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warnings will be at the beginning of every chapter, if you feel I've missed one lmk and I'll add them. Ch 1 there's implicit threats and healthcare staff maltreatment but it's gonna get worse so just consider those agiven for every chapter.

Everyone has an Angel.

A guardian who watches over us. We can't know what form they'll take. One day, old man. Next day, little girl. But don't let appearances fool you. They can be as fierce as any dragon. Yet they're not here to fight our battles, but to whisper from our heart reminding that it's us. It's every one of us who holds the power over the worlds we create.  
We can deny our angels exist, convince ourselves they can't be real. But they show up anyway. At strange places. And at strange times. They can speak through any character we can imagine. They'll shout through demons if they have to, daring us, challenging us to fight.

_Sweet dreams are made of these  
Who am I to disagree  
I’ve traveled the world and the seven seas  
Everybody’s looking for something  
Some of them want to use you  
Some of them want to get used by you  
Some of them want to abuse you  
Some of them want to be abused_

Patient: Erik Lehnserr, age 20  
Electromagnetic manipulation, Omega class  
Violent; Antisocial; Disobedient; Vulgar.

Buzzers sounded as rusted hinges gave way, and Erik was shoved forward, barefoot, on to cold concrete floors. The guard posted grunted and shoved a set of grey patient uniforms into Erik’s hards. Erik tried to take in his surroundings as best he could, tried to map all the fluorescent lit hallways from the parking lot to the interior of the hospital. Prison. Whatever he should call this place.

“Ah yes, this is our new subj- patient?” A cold, short haired brunette eyed Erik hungrily over a pair of thin square glasses.

“His name is Erik. The detention center authorities said he’s incredibly hostile.” The grip on his arm tightened, and he glared at his escort.

Tsk tsk. “Pity. His mutation class is high enough that I think we’d have the authority to lobotomize him without having to wait for approval from the board. If he gives us any trouble.” The man smiled condescendingly at Erik’s clenched jaw. “When does our lobotomist come in next?”

“Friday, Doctor Schmitt.”

“Friday. Four days is long enough, I think, to confirm if he’s a danger at our facility, yes?”

“As far as the board is concerned, sure.”

Doctor Schmitt gave Erik a smile that was devoid of any warmth. “Wunderbaug.”

“This way, my new ward; it’s time to meet your peers in the theater.” Doctor Schmitt led Eriik and their escorting guard through a set of double doors. The room on the other side looked to be an ex cafetorium- whatever the lab was using as a facility, this building seemed like it had been a school or something similar, with the painted over cinder blocks for walls, tile ceilings, the works.

It wasn’t thoroughly researched, but Omega class mutants had been known to still be able to use a little of their powers under supressor collars, which explained to Erik why any kind of authority would waive his medical rights or look the other way when it came to something as drastic as a lobotomy. If he gives us any trouble.

Scattered tables seated one or two mutants each, all wearing supressor collars like the one he’d had slapped on him at the detention center. Some had visible mutations, like the one with blue scales or spikes coming out of his skin, while others he could’ve passed in the street not knowing the difference.

On the small stage at the end of the cafetorium a blonde woman in a lab coat was seated next to a man sitting on what appeared to be the most uncomfortable futon ever built.

“This is what we call the theater, liebling. The subjects use this place to…”

Doctor Schmitt trailed off just as a fight broke out between two patients. The blue one got so far as flipping a table before guards seized both of them while the other screamed. Both were immediately jabbed with hypospray sedatives and shoved into new chairs.

“... Socialize.”

Erik knew Schmitt was being dramatic, but he couldn’t help but give a little and feel shaken. Even if he did manage to convince the staff a lobotomy wasn’t necessary, he was going to lose his mind here.

Across the room, a soft melody began playing faintly.

“Doctor Frost likes to use the space for a little therapy. Our staff psychologist likes to keep a holistic medical profile on all our subjects.”

The mutant on stage with Doctor Frost made eye contact with Erik and Erik froze. His face hinted at beautiful cheekbones and once bright lips washed out by the lights that made his face look thin and ghostly pale. His hair was buzzed, his frame hinted at a solid form underneath the grey uniform. But the eyes are what shocked Erik and held him captivated in his piercing gaze, blue, full of hurt yet utterly uninviting of pity.

“...Let the pain go. Let the hurt go. Wherever you are right now, that place in your head, can be as real as here. Now, tell me Charles, where are you?”

Glassy blue eyes stared back at Erik, keeping him rooted to the spot. Erik ignored Doctor Schmitt and his fear mongering tour; Charles ignored Doctor Frost and the music playing for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been holding onto this fic f o r e v e r and the character choices mean a lot to me as well as some of the lines. SuckerPunch more or less works like inception and the first "layer" which is reality is the insane asylum. I picture the surpressor collars working like in Ikeracity's The Stars Incline Us, They Do Not Bind Us (https://archiveofourown.org/works/2635184/chapters/5881673), I picture run down McAcoy like from the second half of Atomic Blonde and Fassbender in Eden Lake, and Bacon as Scdmit in the beginning of XMFC.


End file.
